


The Romanov Princess

by SkyesRogers



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Historical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyesRogers/pseuds/SkyesRogers





	1. Prologue

1932.

Mother runs her hand through my scarlet hair, weaving in flowers from the field. We look at the city from a distance, watching as the sun's last rays light up the edges of the city.

"One day," She promises. "We will return. This is your inheritance, all of it."

I nod in reply, not fully comprehending the weight of her words.

"Remember, my little Tsarina. You are a Romanov. You will be the one to reclaim our lands, to restore our family name to its former glory. My father's death will not be in vain." Her hand tenses at these words, tugging at my hair slightly and causing me to flinch.

As the sun set below the horizon and darkness followed, we made our way back into our hut, where a small fire lit the hearth. We didn't have much, but the days passed with Mother were enough to warm the bite of even the coldest of Russian winters. _This is enough for_ _me_ , I decide, _all I need is to be here with Mother._  

 


	2. Chapter 2

1936.

Mother brought me to the city on my 6th birthday. It was all so foreign to me, yet, it held a sense of calm and normality as I watched people go by on their daily business. We went down an alley and up a flight of stairs to a darkened room.

The curtains were pulled, masking the noise from the street below but letting just enough light in to create shadows that danced whenever the wind blew them. I stood closer to Mother, gripping her tightly as a figure emerged from a doorway I hadn't noticed in the dark.

"My Tsarina, how wonderful to finally see you again." He stepped closer, the faint light illuminating enough of his face for me to make out some of his features.

"Petrovitch." Mother nodded to him. "This is my daughter, Natalia."

"And her father?"

"He died the same year she was born."

Mother never spoke of my father and this was as far as I knew of him as well. Sometimes, though, when she thinks that I'm asleep, she takes out a photograph of him and speaks to him. I always wondered about him but never questioned Mother. As far as I was concerned, she was all I needed.

The man lowered his head as if thinking before lifting it again to address Mother. "You have my loyalty. I will protect the both of you with my life. All I ask is for Tsarina Natalia to remember me when she is returned to her rightful place."

"We are both immensely grateful for your assistance, Ivan. It will never be forgotten."

***

We spend the days in the dark apartment. Mother only allowed me to venture as far as the living area adjourned to our room, warning me not to even look out the window. It was essential that no one saw us, she said.

Ivan is a constant presence, bringing us food and clothing. Occasionally, he would sit with Mother in the living area, talking in low voices as I watched from behind our room's doorframe. Mother did not have much time for me here. At least not as much as back when we lived in our little cottage just outside the woods. Back then, we used to spend our days picking berries in the woods and our nights watching the stars. Now, she is constantly writing something in a small notebook, talking more to Ivan than to me. I miss our old life.

More days pass. The boredom is killing me. I spend hours trying to read the newspapers Ivan leaves around, simply because I have nothing better to do. I find out from Mother that he used to be the Head of Guard back when grandfather ruled.

***

Daylight has yet to break. I am awoken by Mother shaking on my arm frantically, only to choke on the thick air around me. Mother pulls me by the arm forcefully, shoving the notebook into a small bag before pulling me out into the living area. 

A fire blazes at the base of the steps, trapping us in the apartment. The air becomes even thicker as smoke billows from the source below, the fire spreading slowly but steadily towards us. 

"Tsarina!" I hear Ivan's voice from outside the balcony.

Mother rushes over to the balcony, dragging me away from the flames. She pulls me into a tight hug, holding me at arm's length to look me over for a second before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"I love you, Natalia. Ivan, please take care my Natalia for me."

Mother picks me up and lifts me over the balcony's rails. I look at her with wide eyes, too shocked to respond as I lose the feeling of the ground from my feet. My mouth opens but no sound emerges as I fall, faster and faster before I am caught in someone's arms.

"I've got you, Natalia. It's okay." Ivan's voice gently reassures.

"Mama!"

I hear a crack and watch in horror as a burning beam falls in front of Mother, trapping her from all exits. The fire burns bigger and brighter, surrounding Mother until she looked like an Angel rising from the flames. I see her smile through tear stained cheeks for the last time as the flames engulf her.

"Remember who you are."

"Mama..." Tears stream down my face as I fight the strong arms that hold me, refusing to let Mother go like that. 

"Natalia, we have to go. Now. Before they come." Ivan picks me up as I kick and pound against his back, refusing to leave. 

***

We leave the city behind once again, stopping only when we reach the edge of the woods. Flames spread through the city from different points, leaving me wondering if it was a direct attack on us or on the city itself. 

Ivan holds my hand tightly as we walk along the edge of the woods, seemingly looking for something. Our old cottage comes into view as the day breaks over the land, washing the landscape in a light that was too bright, too cheery for such a day like this. I run up to the cottage, flinging the door open and going straight to my room, burying my head in the pillow that smells too much of Mother. 

My tears soak into the pillow, drenching it as I cried until no more came, remaining that way until dusk came again. I wiped my face, washing it with the small bowl of water Ivan had placed beside me as I grieved. I would cry no more.

 _Remember who you are._ Mother, you would not have died in vain. I will make you proud.

 

 

 

 


End file.
